


The Girl with the Tribal Tattoo.

by AL0veNeverKn0wn



Category: The 100 (TV), The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Lexa (The 100), Doctor Abby Griffin, Endgame Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Eventual Clarke Griffin/Lexa, F/F, Hacking, Jealous Clarke, Jealous Lexa, Minor Abby Griffin/Jake Griffin, Multi, Nerd Lexa, POV Clarke, POV Lexa, Sarcastic Anya (The 100), Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17500169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AL0veNeverKn0wn/pseuds/AL0veNeverKn0wn
Summary: Clarke Griffin’s MagazineArkadiais her life, and she puts all her soul into her work. She understands her privilege, inheriting such a large amount of money young gave her the opportunity to be the kind of journalist she wanted to be, she couldn’t blow it.Lexa Woods understands privilege too, she sees it wherever she goes, written on the smiling faces of happy families. Most people think privilege is about wealth, power, or opportunity, I guess it is all that too. However when you have grown up with nothing and nobody, when you have had to fight for the very right to live and walk free then you realise that privilege is even more simple than that. It is a privilege to have trust, to believe in someone. Lexa is not privileged.Lexa might not be privileged, but she is super smart, and really strong, and she knows it. She doesn’t need to rely upon anyone else, because she has herself, and that is all that she needs.She boots up her 17” Alienware Laptop, and started her personal encryption software Trikru 3.2, clicking her knuckles ominously her fingers began gliding effortlessly across the keyboard, nobody was safe from her in her domain.“Right Miss Griffin, let’s see what you are hiding.”





	The Girl with the Tribal Tattoo.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so presumably by the title you can guess where my mind is going with this Fic, I was particularly inspired to write this when reading _Loving you in the Light and the Dark_ series (Thank you Tanagariel, [check out her fics guys](https://archiveofourown.org/series/339256)). That had a wonderful picture of Lexa as a journalist and my mind just wandered to the wonderful work of Stieg Larrson and the amazing character that he brought to life with Lizbeth Salander (I know she wasn’t the reporter obviously). For me I feel Lexa shares some similar qualities with Lizbeth, and so the inspiration.
> 
> Just another shout out in terms of inspiration _The Whores’ Queen_ by [W0rldofmy0wn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259208/chapters/30334116) I thought was so well written and such a great world builder, there are many others of course but that particularly challenged me to think of these characters in really different roles and the importance of building that world around them. Even though the temptation may always be to focus most time on their relationship.  
> I will say this, I know that there will be some elements of this story that add or perhaps even take away from the original characters, it is a blend between the 100/ the girl series so that might mean at times people won’t be 100% happy with the way that the characters are behaving, I recognise this, but I’m still doing it. Sorry if it is a deal breaker for some of you readers!
> 
> Apologies at the outset, I’ve only written the one FanFic before, I’m a lover of reading so I’m probably still going to be nervous, and incredibly frustrated by my own meager skills. Still nothing ventured nothing gained.
> 
> Plan is to update weekly, though you know, the best laid plans of mice and men.

## Monday Mornings.

> _  
> “It is far from being true that all Women want courage, strength, or conduct to lead an army to triumph; any more than it is that all Men are endow'd with them. There are many of our sex as intrepid as the Men (...)  
>  Need I bring Amazons from Scythia to prove the courage of Women? Need I run to Italy for a Camilla to shew an instance of warlike courage? (...) other nations glory in their numberless stole of warlike Women. (...) But to pass over the many instances of warlike bravery in our sex, let it suffice to name a Boadicea, who made the most glorious stand against the Romans (...) and if her endeavours did not meet with the success of an Alexander, a Cæsar, or a Charles of Sweden, in his fortunate days, her courage and conduct were such, as render her worthy to be consider'd equal, if not superior, to them all, in bravery and wisdom”_
> 
> #### ― Lady Sophia Fermor, Woman Not Inferior to Man
> 
> __

__

Clarke tilted her umbrella and leant into the wind, cursing the unceasing rain that was drenching the streets of London. Her walk from the underground was not far and yet today it seemed an unending misery. She thanked God for the burgundy mac that has been a present from her Mother for her birthday last month, it perfectly shielded her, even from the splashes of the constant traffic whirling by her.  
If truth be told it was not the weather that was making her mood so foul and her walk to interminable, if only her problems could be solved simply by the sun deciding to shine. The truth was she was majorly messing up, everything about her life was a complete mess, personally, professionally, there just didn’t seem to be any aspect of life that she couldn’t turn to shit. As always with Clarke it was her professional life that was her main focus though.  
She had been given every opportunity she could have asked for, so much had been given to her, yet she just couldn’t make it work. Her magazine _Arkadia_ was the most important thing in her life and yet, if something didn’t change, then she was going to lose it.

She stormed through the glass entrance into the warmth and dry of her headquarters. _Arkadia_ was a small team of faithful employees, all passionate journalists, idealistic and ambitious. They all had joined the magazine for the same reason; to change the world. Seeing their smiling confident faces brought her a fresh wave of nausea, they had followed her, she was their leader and their inspiration and they looked to her with complete faith and surety. She was on the precipice of a huge fall from grace. Carefully avoiding the gazes of those faithful few she made her way through the desks straight to the private office at the back.  
She never needed to knock, it was a shared office really, two desks dominated the wonderfully light office. Glass fronted offices were beautiful, but not for the mood that Clarke was currently in. Wells was already sat behind his desk, absorbed in the screen before him. He did not look up even when Clarke let out an audible sigh. Neither did he seem to notice when she threw her drenched coat onto the coat stand so roughly that it banged against the wall or her umbrella clanged into its holder. Wells was calm and steadfast where Clarke was headstrong and tempestuous. Perhaps it was their differences that made their partnership work so well. 

Though he ignored all her passive aggression apparently blind to her rage, when she finally sank into her chair, head resting on her keyboard and a tear forming in her eye he did finally look up.  
“None of this is your fault Clarke.”  
The blonde met his calm gaze, sadness etched in her face. “I should have seen that something wasn't right! How the hell can I call myself an investigative journalist?”  
“Clarke none of us saw this coming, yeah your Dad was off, withdrawn even, but I never expected this. How could you see this coming, when someone so close to you was involved?”

The truth was she had suspected something was amiss. Clarke could see the burden on her Father, that some darkness was overcoming him, she knew things were not right, but chose to ignore it.  
Jake Griffin had been arrested only 2 days ago on Saturday morning, but since then all hell had broken loose. Now 7:35 Monday morning Clarke had to pull herself together and save her company from folding in the fallout of this disaster.

“How much have we lost in advertising?” Clarke half hid her face between her fingers, as though that might shield her from the brutal reality. 

Her surname had always been part and parcel of her privilege. The Griffin name was well known, held in such great esteem in so many quarters. It seemed so recent that she had been celebrating with her parents, Jake's Nobel prize for literature. Jake was no normal journalist. His writing was elevated to an art form, bringing beauty and nuance to situations globally ignored. Jake was a voice to the voiceless, a light in the darkness. He was everything Clarke ever aspired to be. Now Clarke was forced to watch as that crumbled around her ears. Of course her Father's name had lent her credibility, Clarke was used to being in his shadow. In the initial stages of starting _Arkadia_ she had tried to separate herself from her family. She had tried to use her own money and connections so that nobody could say she had not earned her place through her own merit. But as much as she'd tried she could never be separated from her family ties. Wells too encouraged her to use it to her advantage, coming from a similar background himself he had convinced her to use her name to their advantage. Clarke had expected to have time to prove herself, to slowly distance herself and to forge her own identity and reputation. Now that was too late her reputation was tied to her Father's, and his reputation was in tatters.

“We've lost 50% in terms of revenue, it's the big names that have pulled out so and they're always the first to go, the smaller companies tend to drag their feet a bit.” Wells spoken evenly, his eyes never breaking from the eyes of blue mournfully fixed upon her computer screen.

“So realistically we could eventually be left with nothing.” She sighed dejectedly, “how long will we have to fix this before the magazine no longer has the finances to continue?”

“ _Arkadia_ has very little reserves, probably about 4 issues worth, but, well I mean, it's not like I don't have money I could contribute.”  
Clarke's focus snapped from her screen and angrily eyed her dark skinned companion, her loyal friend and protector. 

“Wells you absolutely cannot put any more money into this endeavour, if this is to be the end, then so be it. You will not be going down with the ship.”

If Clarke was ever going to save this magazine she had to think of something, and fast.

* * *

Indra was well used to the mysterious comings and goings of Lexa Woods. There had been a time when she had hoped that Lexa would be able to settle in to a normal work schedule, to have a desk, to keep office hours. She wasn't expecting her to surround herself with colleagues, but to at least to not intimidate every single member of staff that she had. She had taken Lexa on board as a favour to her old friend Gustus and within the first week of her arrival she really had no idea what to think.

Lexa was an extremely thin girl, not short by any means, you couldn't be short with legs like hers, legs that seemed to go on forever, but she wasn't physically imposing. She seemed little older than a girl, a very moody, brooding, young girl.  
As is often the case her first impression of this young woman was extremely misleading. When Indra had tried to give her a few small tasks to undertake, dropping reports to desks, sorting mail and making drinks Lexa had been completely unresponsive. Indra had worried that perhaps there was something wrong with the girl, who seemed never to be inclined to speaking. Her eye contact to was… well it certainly wasn't normal. Lexa had two modes of eye contact, either ignoring your very existence, or she would stare into your eyes with a gaze so intense that you felt she was seeing your very soul. 

Lexa did not make tea or coffee, or take messages, she didn't do filing or perceivably make any efforts at all to work. Indra had been mere seconds away from phoning Gustus, to berate him for taking advantage of her friendship when unannounced Lexa stalked into her office.

“The report that Quint gave you on his latest client is rubbish.”

Indra blinked, completely aghast, Lexa had barely spoken 3 words to her since she started, the brunette communicating rather with curt nods and cold stares. Indeed Indra was starting to think that she might suffer from some severe disability which affected her intellectual capacity. How did this weird girl even know about Quint's work, she certainly doubted she had the understanding to be able to assess whether he had done a thorough job.

“What makes you say that Ms Woods?” She replied curtly.

“He has missed the hidden accounts under the target's secondary company, which has been taking shareholder profits and redistributing them into several personal accounts, accounts that he had hoped were untraceable.”

Indra's eyebrows furrowed, the shock written in her face. The girl before her merely stood there unmoving, no emotion displayed on her face. She had spoken clear and concisely in a complete monotone, as though the subject was of no interest to her. To her credit Indra recovered from her shock very quickly. Her eyes quickly scanned to women she'd underestimated as though she were seeing her for the first time.

“I assume that you have proof of this?”

Lexa had produced her own file detailing not only the fraud she had uncovered but completely laying bare the life of its subject, it was the most thorough report she'd ever received at _Polis Protection_. Lexa had been right, Quint had completely missed everything, the target was human filth yet Quint's report had made him seem like a boy scout.  
“Where did you find this out?” Indra looked back up from her desk, her question remaining unanswered the girl had left silently, without any further words. 

That encounter was 2 years ago, and Indra had learnt little more about the personal life of this mysterious girl or her methods of discovering the most closely guarded secrets of any target. Needless to say Indra had not given her any other menial tasks. Lexa had free rein to come and go as she pleased, more often than not it was her who decided upon the work she would undertake. How she knew about different possible assignments was as baffling to Indra as everything else, but she had long since given up asking any questions.

The report that Lexa was turning in on this particular occasion was slightly different, Indra had asked Lexa to investigate the target. The girl had been her usual stubborn self and made it quite clear that she had no desire to do the assignment, the target didn’t really interest her. Indra knew better than to try and persuade her, she couldn’t even convince the girl to stop looking at her staff like she was about to bite them. No, there was no point trying to change her opinion. It had been an unfortunate response for Indra, the clients who were asking for the information were extremely wealthy and they could potentially open up many more doors and contracts for the company. Indra really needed her best worker on this, but if she wouldn’t do it, well enough said.  
Bizarrely though she did not need to convince Lexa, because she changed her mind. Indra didn’t need to ask why she had changed her mind, the reason was obvious. 2 days ago every headline in the country had been obsessed with one story. Suddenly looking into the life of Clarke Griffin seemed a lot more interesting to everybody, including the stubborn brunette. Indra had responded to Lexa’s request for the work by telling her she only had 48 hours, one of her other employees were well involved in the investigation but she knew they wouldn’t find nearly as much even though they had been on it for weeks.

Indra had encountered an unexpected problem however, when the clients had come in, they had demanded to receive an oral report as well as the written one, they demanded it be from the investigator. They were asking to see Lexa, and much as Indra knew that it would be an awful idea she could not manage stop the meeting take place.  
Lexa sat on one side of the large meeting room, she leaned back in her chair with her feet on the table, her black New Rock boots tatty and splashed with mud not doing any favours to the highly polished woodwork. She wasn’t looking at the gentleman who sat opposite her, instead she was busy looking at her hands, apparently trying to clear out some grit from underneath her fingernails. Indra was not going to step in, she had made it perfectly clear to this man that this was not regular, that this particular researcher would not respond well. When he had insisted she told him that she would try and get her to agree to the meeting but that was all she would do, he could waste his time trying to get her to talk. 

“I’d like you to tell me what you know about Clarke Griffin?” The man was extremely polite and there was nothing in his voice that would rile up most ordinary people, a straightforward question, deserving a straightforward answer.

“I’ve told you all I know about Clarke Griffin, that report is extremely extensive and I can personally attest to its accuracy. What is the problem? Can you not read.” Every single word was addressed to her fingernails, she never bothered to look up, her voice was dry and her tone conveyed boredom.

To his credit, though the man was momentarily taken aback, he kept his countenance just as polite as his initial question. If the man was annoyed by the girl’s impudence he certainly did nothing to show it.  
“I have read through your report, and it certainly was very thorough. I can’t imagine how you have found out such tremendous detail about her life. But there are ways in which the report is slightly lacking.”

That got Lexa’s attention, for the first time since the meeting began she looked into the man’s eyes. The look that she gave the man was as far from polite as it was possible to be. Her eyes narrowed venomously, and her lips were curled, not so much as to expose her teeth, but enough to make the threat in her face extremely clear.  
“In what way is it lacking?” She spat.

“Well..” The gentleman began, ignoring her hostility, but his voice more gentle and even than it had been before. “We have here all her financial details, we have lists of all her employees, all the major articles that she had written, her childhood and upbringing is included… honestly you have thought to include so much that I would never have thought of…” 

“But?” Lexa prompted, icily.

“The report doesn’t tell me anything about the kind of person that Clarke is, it is completely impersonal, we wanted to know about the woman herself.”

Lexa stared at the man under frowning brows, she weighed each word that she spoke carefully. “I have detailed in my report, there is nothing to suggest that Miss Griffin has been involved in anything illegal, I am always on the lookout for things that people are wanting to keep hidden, she doesn’t have anything to hide, otherwise I would have found it.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t answer my question does it, we need to know the type of person she is, this report doesn’t even mention the embarrassments she’s had with some of her…well dalliances to put it delicately.”

“My job is not to do a fucking personality profile, I couldn’t care what score she gets doing a Myers Briggs. If you are referring to her sex life, all her partners have been above age and consensual so why the hell should you care who she sleeps with? It’s nobody’s business but her own!”

You could now tell that the man was beginning to loose a little of his patience, still Indra thought he had shown rather remarkable forbearance, few people could speak to Lexa for this long.  
“The business that we believe may involve Miss Griffin is extremely delicate. Before we get her involved we need to be sure that she can be trusted. Please, I understand that it is not your usual mode of working, but if you would just indulge me and give me a brief summary of what you think of her, then we can end this meeting.”

Lexa exhaled, but it sounded closer to a snarl, she did not like this one bit. She had a very strict code of ethics, it might not be one that was understood to be in line with the law, however it was the rules she lived by. Had she found something untoward in Clarke’s life, then she would have had no qualms about ripping her life to shreds. Lexa always considered that if you were going to be a shit in life then you couldn’t complain when your actions came back to haunt you. Actually she rather liked to be the world’s weapon of justice.  
But Clarke simply wasn’t one of those people, everything was exactly as it should be, honestly, a very very unusual occurrence in her line of work. She felt slightly protective of her, Clarke didn’t deserve this random man, poking into her life, hell she felt she shouldn’t have even poked around, though she didn’t give that thought very much room. Still, she really wanted this insipid conversation to end, it wasn’t like she would ever meet Clarke, so to get her out of the situation, she decided she would comply.

“Clarke appears to have very strong morals, perhaps a bit of a saviour complex. She doesn’t appear to be afraid of anyone, and will take on stories that many of her peers would not have the courage to pursue. In her rather impressive career she has taken on some quite nasty characters.  
Clarke does appear to enjoy company, she is openly a bisexual and has had some romances which have gained rather a lot of exposure. From what I can tell she has some sort of casual relationship with her business partner Wells Jaha, one which his wife knows about but is apparently unconcerned. I don’t see it as anyone else business to judge her actions, but as you seem to be insisting I will let you read what you will into the facts that I have given you.”

Throughout her report the brunette had gone back to her study of her own hands, apparently she would give the man the information he was demanding, but he was going to get as little from her as possible, and eye contact was not to be part of the deal.

The man looked to be satisfied with the extra information he had managed to glean from the girl. He was not quite ready to leave however;

“Since we set your company this task, well, the situation with Miss Griffin has taken a very interesting turn, what can you tell me about the accusations facing her father Jake?”

Again, Lexa took her time in answering the question, she was getting more and more irritated by this man, and she had now decided that she would certainly be looking into a few of his affairs, just for the sake of her curiosity.

“Jake was not my target. If you would like a report on him, well then you will have to take that up with Indra. I suppose I can say, for the purpose of this meeting, that Clarke does not appear to have any knowledge relating to the accusations levelled at her Father, as I have already stated I can find no trace of any illegality in her actions. Though the media appear to be linking her with Jake’s current predicament I have found no evidence to support that accusation.”

“Could you look into the accusations against Jake Griffin?”

Lexa looked up once more at the man sat across the table, she then looked over at Indra and nodded. Indra reciprocated the gesture and at that moment, without a further word being spoken she got up and left the room. The meeting was apparently over.

* * *

Clarke and Wells had been talking for hours, and they were no nearer thinking of a solution than when she had arrived in the office that morning. She was cursing the smoking ban, though she had been cursing that since 2007, just when things were this stressful in the office she craved the comfort she gained from having a cigarette. Her stomach too was beginning the growl rather loudly, they were going to have to break at some point soon before her physical cravings rendered her a complete monster. It wasn’t like she was in a good mood to begin with. She cradled her head in her hands and tried her utmost to keep her focus.

“Wells, I think I should step down. We need to distance _Arkadia_ from this mess at least until we can figure out our next move.” Clarke watched as Well’s dark features contorted in a frown and he slowly began to shake his head. “No Wells, don’t even start arguing with me on this one. You know perfectly well if this were any other member of staff we would have no choice but to suspend them.”

“Clarke don’t be ridiculous, don’t compare apples to oranges, you are not an employee. You half own _Arkadia_ you are our most well respected reporter and the editor. We can’t physically function without you. Also, the distance your describing is not even possible, you are _Arkadia_ everybody knows that! If you step down, we will have gained nothing and we will be rudderless, precisely at the time when we are most vulnerable.”

Clarke merely groaned and lay her face flat on the desk, this was essentially the argument of the last several hours, an entirely pointless back and forth between the two of them in which neither was willing to concede anything whatsoever.

“I’m going out for a cig, and then I’m getting some food.”

Usually Clarke would have asked Wells to go with her, he was one of her favourite people to spend time with and there weren’t very many of them. But she was tired and extremely pissed off, she just wanted to be as far from all living people as possible.  
It had stopped raining at least, not that she was really counting the positives at that moment. But at least she could light her cigarette without hiding under the pathetic shelter they had for smokers, she internally cursed the way she felt vilified for choosing to smoke…she knew when her mind wandered onto rants like that, she definitely needed to take a breath calm down.  
She took a long drag, let the smoke slowly escape her lips. _Damn_ she thought, _I really should quit this habit, but it makes me feel so much better_. She smoked quickly, it was still quite chilly out, and add to that the fact that she was really hungry, she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning…come to think of it she hadn’t eaten tea the night before. She was generally awful at taking care of herself, and that was before she became stressed. She internally admonished herself as she stubbed out her cigarette and deposited it in a nearby bin. 

At least there were plenty places to grab something to eat in London, she loved the busyness of the capital city, her parents had a large place out in the suburbs, but she was a city girl through and through. She loved being able to get where she wanted to without a car, she loved being able to see all the hit shows without paying extortionate prices, she also loved how she was left to her own devices. There wasn’t exactly any community spirit, people kept themselves to themselves, no awkward pleasantries on the underground. Clarke Griffin had been the typical social girl through to university but something about working life had made her shut off more. Perhaps she was chagrined with life, with the way her job constantly pushed her to find out about the awful things that people did to one another, or the huge injustices perpetrated on the weak, by the infinitely more powerful. Now she more often than not kept herself to herself she had her close friends she didn’t really need any more. There were hookups of course, but that was a different matter entirely. She always enjoyed a healthy (yet safe) sex life, and she wasn’t ashamed of it, but she had given up on the idea of some romantic attachment. Relationships just never seemed to work out, they were messy and _so_ complicated, which was quite the opposite of what she needed right now.  
She walked in the door of her favourite lunch time haunt, ordered her usual soup and a salad, then took a seat in a secluded corner. Much as she would have liked to forget about her predicament, to switch off from her troubles for a moment, she just couldn’t help think of her Dad, how on earth had they got to this place?

Her mind wandered back to just a few months ago, she knew now that had been the beginning of these troubles. Clarke and her Father always discussed the pieces that he was working on, as far back as she could ever remember he would sit with her and explain the people he was trying to protect, the situation he was highlighting. It had begun with her sat on his knee and looking up in awe as he told her, in words suitable for her young age, the most amazing stories. Now she was fully grown, Jake didn’t need to hold back, he discussed with his daughter the ins and outs of his stories and they discussed the angles he should focus on, or the contacts he might need to make. As a child when Jake had given her space to offer her opinions she had thought he needed it, she had puffed out her chest in pride because her Daddy needed _her_ help. But it had been quite some time since she thought anything so naive, Clarke knew that this was Jake’s way of teaching her. I suppose some may have said she was groomed for journalism, but that wasn’t the case. Her father had taught her to think critically, to ask the right questions and to not be satisfied with easy answers. If anything she had felt a stronger push from her mother, to follow her into medicine. Clarke had got so far as pre med, but when sat in her biology class she realised that she just didn’t have the passion required, she knew what she wanted to do, and so she switched majors to journalism.  
Two months ago, something switched in Jake. Where he had always sought out his daughter, now he was avoiding all their meet-ups. He cancelled lunch appointments and catch-up coffees, more alarmingly still when she went back home he was never around. Sunday lunch was now only with her Mum, the chair usually occupied by Jake, now hauntingly empty. Clarke had questioned her Mum about it, obviously, but her Mum to had seemed distant. Evidently she didn’t want to talk to Clarke about her Father, she was always changing the subject or dismissing her observations. She didn’t need to be an investigative journalist to see that something was wrong. Clarke was slightly thrown off by her Mum’s response though, instead of being a work related problem it seemed more likely that it was a personal problem. They had always seemed such a strong loving couple, very affectionate and supportive of one another. Relationships were complicated though, Clarke knew that very well indeed and so she consoled herself that the problems she was observing were the normal stresses and strains of married life, they’d be straightened out soon enough.

That Saturday morning she didn’t even have the courtesy of finding out about her Father’s arrest before the rest of the world…no, she woke up with her twitter accounts ablaze (both her personal account and the one for _Arkadia _) There were actual fucking pictures of her Dad being led away in handcuffs. _In handcuffs?!___ She had just stared completely aghast at the news. She had many missed calls, from friends, colleagues, from reporters and many numbers which she didn’t recognise at all. But there was a number that was suspiciously absent. Her mother had not called her once, no text, not one word from her at all. She had been willing to assume that this was because she was completely focused upon Jake, that was until she had met her.  
Clarke had jumped out of bed and headed straight to the station where Jake was apparently being questioned. She looked a mess and she felt even worse. It was not how she would have liked to appear when surrounded by a sea of reporters, who were all now clambering over one another to try and get to her and get her comment on the situation. She was far more comfortable asking the questions than answering them, though she did have some experience being in the spotlight. Clarke managed to battle through the crowd without giving any responses and without being too rude either, a hard line to maintain sometimes.  
Upon entering the station she was glad to see that the officers had managed to keep the amount of people inside to a minimum, Clarke was able to immediately find her Mother.

__Abigail Griffin looked to be in a similarly dishevelled state, she was usually very pristine in her appearance, obviously the seriousness of the situation hadn’t afforded her the time to get herself ready. However other than this Abby looked remarkably composed. Clarke had half expected a tearful puddle at her Mother’s feet, but her eyes weren’t red, nor were there the tell-tale wells at the corners of her eyes. Then again, Clarke hadn’t been crying yet either, no doubt she would soon crack under the pressure, but for now at least she was just too shocked. Everything felt as though it were suspended in mid-air, life had a strange unreality to it, as though she expected at any moment to wake herself up from this ridiculous dream. No, she could explain away her Mum’s lack of tears, but then they made eye contact.  
Their eyes met only very briefly, before Abby turned away, Abby would not look at Clarke. She turned away from her as she approached, it was unmistakeable. However by the time that Clarke had walked the 10 meters, or so, of the corridor Abby flung her arms around her and hugged her tightly._ _

__“Oh Clarke, thank goodness you are here.”_ _

__All the awkwardness that had been obvious only a moment ago had now completely evaporated, as though it were only a figment of Clarke’s imagination. But Clarke could not be fooled by that, she wasn’t going to be thrown off by her Mother’s sudden change, ever instinct within her was screaming, her Mum did not want to see her.  
When Clarke’s suspicion was aroused, nothing but the truth would satisfy her, it was what made her such a good reporter. She knew that there was something that Dr Griffin was holding back, and she was damn certain that she would find out what that was.  
But she didn’t get any closer to finding out, because nobody would tell her anything at all, she wasn’t allowed to see her Father, she wasn’t allowed to hear the charges that had been brought against him, she wasn’t allowed to talk to his lawyer, who she hadn’t actually even seen at any point during the morning. 

__“What the hell is going on here? Someone must know something! Get me someone who will give me some answers, **now**!_ _

__She had used every possible tactic she could think of, all the possible avenues available to her and yet well after lunch that day she was still absolutely non the wiser. The entire time she was kicking up a fuss in the station her Mum was eerily quite._ _

__“Why are you not angry about this Mum? Why are you not trying to find out what’s going on? Look at me and tell me to my face, you don’t know more than you are telling me.”_ _

__Her Mum just looked at her dully, lacking any real emotion. “Honey, I just know when I’m not going to win a battle.”_ _

__There was nothing else to say, nothing else to do, not that Clarke didn’t try. She shouted for a further hour, at a mixture of different people without any success. But she did not address another word to her mother, she really couldn’t face it at that moment. She was burning with anger and she was afraid what would happen if she turned that anger on her mother.  
Eventually she went home, still not knowing why Jake had been arrested. The newspapers, still hounding her for comment when she had none to give, but deep down she knew that there was something deeply wrong, and though she assured herself she would find out what, she also was afraid about what she might find._ _

__Clarke slurped down another spoonful of the potato and leak soup in front of her, at least this warmed her up somewhat, instantly taking the edge off the hunger pains presently plaguing her. She was not paying any attention to her surroundings, her mind replaying the events of the last few days, desperately trying to discern some way forward._ _

__“Hey Clarke!” The voice broke Clarke’s solitary musings and she looked up, rather dazed, from her bowl. She was met by strong quizzical eyebrows and a compassionate expression.  
Clarke rolled her eyes, really not in any mood for interruptions._ _

__“No comment, Niylah.” She responded bluntly._ _

__The blonde took a step away from Clarke, she looked deeply hurt by the response she’d been given. She took a slow breath before responding, and each word seemed carefully measured._ _

__“Clarke, I know I’m hungry for a good story, but I had hoped you knew me better than that. I wanted to see how you were holding up, I thought…I thought we were friends?”_ _

__Clarke sighed deeply and rubbed a palm across her face, her fingers massaging her aching head. She really was not in the mood for people. She tucked an errant hair behind her ear and looked up at Niylah. To be fair to the young woman she was a really respectful reporter. Niylah presented a popular nighttime news segment and Clarke had been a guest of hers on numerous occasions. They were mutually beneficial to each other, Clarke had given Niylah some really good scoops, and in turn she had provided a wonderful platform to promote _Arkadia_. But right now, with everything going on, Clarke just wanted to be left alone. It really didn’t help matters when the two had, on occasions, been known to mix business and pleasure. Still, all things considered her response probably had been the best, damnit, she hated backtracking. Trying her best to soften her countenance she looked into gentle hazel green eyes._ _

__“Niylah, look my head is all over the place at the moment, I know you mean well, you know when I have something, I’ll call you.”_ _

__Clarke knew these words wouldn’t be enough, she knew that they wouldn’t take away the pain that she had caused, she never really could give Niylah what she wanted. Her words were true though, she would call her as soon as she was ready to do so. Niylah softly stroked Clarke’s hands and gave a small sad smile._ _

__“I’m here when you want me Clarke, but I guess you already know that.”_ _

__She was left alone to her soup, which was quickly becoming unpalatably cold. _Great, that’s another person to add to the apologies list._ Clarke was managing to be pretty unbearable to most of the people in her life at the moment. It wasn’t that she really wanted to, but at the same time she really didn’t have her usual energy to restrain herself. She needed to get her head on straight, right now she was absolutely no use to anyone._ _

__Finishing her meal she left the cafe, intent on getting back to Wells and telling him straight that she needed a break from _Arkadia_. She needed to be able to focus on her Father, on uncovering what the hell was going on._ _


End file.
